


True Ancient Fool

by testedcyberneticz



Category: SteamWorld Quest (Video Game)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Post-Canon, Robot surgery i guess, how do i tag this thing, will be long as hell bc i have mental illness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:00:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29761371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/testedcyberneticz/pseuds/testedcyberneticz
Summary: A fic about how Gilgamech goes from being bastardous to... Slightly less. Aka the golf course.This is a rewrite of another fic I made called Forgotten Hero. At the time I didn't have a brain and wrote it weird, so you guys get a rewrite yahoo.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	1. 5 Minutes Later

Everything felt acidic. Physically, mentally, and just the environment itself. It was a horrid, odd feeling. It all felt claustrophobic, and yet like there was all the space in the world. The bright green splashing itself on everything like a murky overlay didn't help. It especially didn't help the pain in his body that had come with punishment. 

Put simply, Gilgamech had failed. 

Which, if anyone had a brain, didn't make any sense. He wasn't supposed to fail, it made no sense for him to. He was a legendary hero, the _True Ancient Hero_ , someone known for winning, for completing his quest. It was a simple system, and yet ignored so easily by the group of misfits that had managed to pass him by. 

In fact, the Behemoth itself had managed to knock him down. Which, once again, doesn't make sense. He was supposed to be the one to kill the Behemoth once again, gain his fame back, stop being forgotten, be recognized as the hero he is once again. Instead, he had only summoned it, been severely injured, and had a crushing reminder sent his way. Along with it came his old friend admitting to remembering him, at the least.

It shouldn't have gotten in the way, emotionally. It shouldn't, it wasn't even that much, technically. And yet for some reason it was so much more painful than anything else. It should've made himself feel amazing! And yet...

"I remembered you..." 

It just felt horrible. Like some kind of weight was on his chest, stabbing through it like a butcher's tool.

Or maybe that's just the injuries. They're on most of his body, after all. Including on his scar. Where it hurt the most. Add that to the dread of literally waiting for the world to end, and it simply made a melting pot of an odd lack of emotions. He couldn't move. He couldn't fight, for sure. The world was ending.

And he had messed up his only relationship he still even had with anyone so quickly it hurt. But it was important. Required. Orik had refused the idea of it because Orik had a tendency to run away. It was as simple as that. 

He had been bracing himself for some time now. Specifically the pain that would probably come with the world ending. There wasn't exactly anything he could do, and he had been the best fighter there was, the best _hero_ , taken down easily by something he had once defeated before. The chance Orik and those misfits that he had brought with him would be able to defeat it was basically nothing. 

And yet, the end of the world wasn't coming. In fact, if it was, it was _really_ delayed. Which made the wait so much _worse_. It gave time for his wounds to be felt, both the wounds acquired from the Behemoth and the wounds acquired from Orik and the group of strangers. Yes, he had been able to heal himself, he was good at it if anyone asked, but... Someone didn't usually go through this much, physically, in the span of one day. 

Someone especially usually wasn't blasted by magic from the Behemoth. And he knew how painful that magic was in more than one way, and how permanent it could be. The scars on his armor were evidence of that and that would never go away. It was something he preferred to be left untouched for a reason. It was also, once again, the reason he wasn't moving. 

Speaking of, how much time had even passed? Ending the world didn't take that long, did it? Or was the Behemoth mocking him for wanting to have a quick ending somehow? There was no doubt that Orik and the others were horrific piles of scrap metal by now. The idea did not give him joy, and never would. As much as Orik had continued to be an _irrational idiot_ who would not listen to reasoning or action, he never wanted him dead. Or hurt, for that matter, but that had been necessary, unfortunately. And the others... He didn't even know them. He had felt this odd spark of being proud regarding the knight, but it had left so quickly it was emptying. He felt even more drained than before after that interaction.

...

Okay, what was even happening? He was getting tired of being forced to think so much. The world should've definitely ended by now. And it _hadn't_.

He wanted to get up and move. So he decided he would, because he wouldn't let himself die of dehydration because the end of the world takes too long. If he was weaker, he would've maybe said that he had been feeling sorry for himself for too long. So he decided to move just enough to get himself fully standing. 

And the moment he did, pain striked through his body, and he heard a _grinding noise_. A **_loud_** _grinding noise_. It made his head ring as if an alarm noise was inside him, and the pain that came with it slammed throughout whatever limb he moved no matter which one it was. It was _excruciating_. But he powered through it, as the odd time of rest that had no true set time to it had managed to help, if only a little. It was painful yes, but it was something better in a way. 

However, it was somewhat alarming when he _very_ suddenly found himself at the elevator. He did not remember walking to the elevator in any way possible. He just found himself leaning on one of the metal walls. This was obviously not magic, but something else, and he chose to ignore it. He wouldn't question something that was, considering the _grinding_ , probably a blessing in some way or the other if he didn't remember. He could feel his furnace working in overtime as well, which was definitely a different feeling than before he... Blacked out? Would that be the right term? 

Didn't matter. He needed to at least leave here so there was a chance someone would find him. Everything as of now was evidence he wouldn't be able to fight the Behemoth, he wouldn't be able to fulfill the quest that was rightfully his, and now the world was- 

No. He was not thinking about that right now. It made him feel worse, and that made the pain in his _body_ feel worse. And he was still in the elevator, not doing anything, which was bad because his body wanted to collapse on him. So he decided to do something by switching the lever, and the grinding followed by a short burst of no vision made the intense amount of anxiety already in him rise upward and beyond. At least he got his explanation for before. 

The elevator chugged upward and beyond as well. It was weirdly calm usually, but this time it just felt ominous. The cheesy elevator music did not help at all, and felt like a blank white noise. It did not at all make his thoughts leave, and only increased them. 

Gilgamech almost felt ready to snap like a twig. The end of the world does not take this long. The Behemoth has _no reason to wait_. It didn't make any sense. _Nothing_ did, really. And the worst part is it all kept looping in his thought process when he had time to think at all. He hated how much he had failed. He hated how what he had done had been for nothing. He hated how easily he had fallen. He hated how the impossible was happening. He hated how soft Orik still was, despite everything. 

He hated that this world would still _forget_ him because of his failure.

And that was his last thought before he found himself completely unconscious.


	2. Waking Up

His first thought upon waking up was the fact that he woke up outside the elevator. The second was the fact he was on something that was... Halfway soft. Which both was concerning, because that could mean- 

"You're finally awake? You took your time." 

Considering the fact that the Merchant was talking to him, Algyron hated every single gear in his body. He couldn't even ask how she was here. He knew well her pattern by now, which was she seemed to go wherever she wanted. However, that didn't explain anything. 

He tried to move, and immediately heard the loudest _grinding_ sound in his _life_ , and his arm flinched so hard it almost looked like a spasm. Pain followed closely and he heard himself hiss similar to that of like a hydralic press. 

"Don't get up, you're already hurt enough. Or move, for that matter," There was the sound of some foot steps, then metal tools clacking together with a ring to it, then she mumbled, "Haven't seen you this hurt in quite a while..." 

" _Why_ are you here?" Gilgamech wondered out loud immediately. It came out more like a demand than anything else. He hated the sound of his voice at the moment, a twinge of pain peppered through it unwillingly. The Mysterious Merchant let out a small, odd chuckle. 

"Did you not notice the giant wagon in front of your elevator? I feel like it would be quite obvious, wouldn't it? Then again..." She made a clicking sound, "You probably went unconscious for a reason. But what do I know? I'm just an old lady running a little shop, after all." 

How had he managed to not notice an entire wagon? He should've at least seen it when he had stood, right? The sound of glass bottles interrupted his thoughts. 

"And you're just an old warrior who managed to get hurt by several different types of magic. And about... two different swords. _Impressive_." He hated how smug she sounded, "I wish I could've fixed you up when you were still asleep. Alas, it would've been so painful you would wake up, and you clearly needed sleep." 

"Encouraging." He said as flat as a board. 

"You're welcome." She said much too cheerfully. He wished he could ball his hand into a fist to show his annoyance. It was something he tended to do, but he desperately wished to never hear that grinding again. If the Merchant was helping him, he'd be relieved of it soon. He tended to recover quickly. 

Even still, his furnace felt like a hard, large rock had fallen inside it and decided it was it's home. He had fallen asleep? Not just a momentary crash? And the world still... Existed? 

"How long was I asleep for?" He said, and hated the tone in his voice once again. The Merchant eventually leaned over him, holding a set of tools in one hand and bottles in the other.

"Long enough for your old friend and his friends to clean up your mess. And beyond. Oh, as a warning- by the way, this is going to hurt. Lucky for you, I had the foresight to give you something to numb it. Call it a merchant's prowess."

That hit harder than anything ever could. That had sounded like hours to days. That had implied that the... No. That was _impossible_. There wasn't a chance of it. He had been the only one to ever defeat the Behemoth. There was no chance they could. 

"Does the Behemoth not _liV **E-?!"**_ At the end of his sentence his voice pitch increased as suddenly as the pain jolted throughout his body while the Merchant had, apparently, gotten to work. It was quickly followed by an incomprehensible noise he couldn't hold back no matter how hard he tried. 

"It doesn't live at all." She shrugged, then continued back to work as if she hadn't just said simultaneously the best yet worst thing he had heard in a long while, all the while she was doing surgery on him while he was awake. 

The good part was rather obvious. The world would not end and the Behemoth was dead. The bad part was everything else. 

His plan had _failed_ , he hadn't even been able to defeat the Behemoth. He had been bested in only a few seconds. Everything he had built up and sacrificed hadn't worked. Orik had to fight the Behemoth essentially alone. He would remain forgotten, never to be seen as the hero he deserves to be seen as again. What would- 

Gilgamech heard a loud "CLUNK" moments before enough pain striked through him that he was pretty sure he had physically moved on reflex. 

Maybe he could find it again. He could try fighting it again. 

There was a loud popping sound and an odd sense of relief swept through him- but only physically, "That may have been an old part instead of any injury. Sorry." The Merchant spoke with an unreadable tone. 

But having been remembered and known, even if just for a second, had left him with nothing. 

He felt what had probably been blocking movement in his arm crumble, though followed by pain and his hand tightening. 

The expression Orik had made towards him so many times as of recent- dissapointment, pity, and concern all mixed into one- had been so different with his mask gone. He wondered if it would happen again, or if he could handle it. He especially wondered if Orik would put his mask back on and run away again. 

And what was of the Void Army? What had happened to them? To those like Captain Canary, or anyone else of the such? Were they still searching, doing what they themselves considered "evil"? Or had they fallen apart? Had they managed to find a normal life, or were they forever wanted in association?

"Gilgamech." 

But maybe there was a chance to stop being forgotten again. That, when his body fully healed, he could find a way to repeat again. He knew the Behemoth's size and power now. He could simply upgrade himself again. He had done it before. 

"Gilgamech, are you there still? You've been... Much less talkative than I remember you being. Quite the lack of speeches." 

In all honesty, he felt violently sick.

"I'm fine, still here. I was merely... distracted." 

There was the sound of tools clattering gently onto a surface, "Distracted?" 

"Yes." 

Silence followed and it made every feeling he was experiencing worse. 

"Why are you helping me, by the way? You're a Merchant, a busy one at that. I, myself, am guessing it's the fact the True Ancient Hero exists before you. Helping with injuries is a good way to gain favor, after all-"

"Shut your mouth," The Merchant almost sounded genuinely mad, "Your ego is bigger than the inside of my wagon and the only title you deserve is either the True Fool or the True Ancient Fool. Depends on if I wish to make fun of your age or not." 

He paused briefly, "Well if it's not that, what is it, then?" He tried to seem as if that hadn't shaken him slightly, as he would definitely never admit to it. It was unreasonable to do so.

"Mm?" She responded, making a sound that was so lacking in commitment he wasn't sure if she had just heard him. 

"Your excuse for helping me, I mean. The objects I was attacked with were sold by you, after _aGHK- I **THOUGHT** YOu were **done-!"**_ His voice quickly decided to travel around the entire pitch spectrum as a loud clunking, clicking, and an odd burst of pain scrambled through his body, only to suddenly stop at an arbitrary time.

"I never said I was, unfortunately. You at least have a new cog now." 

"You gave me an _entirely new cog while I was awake?!"_

"In all fairness, I am not a doctor. I am a merchant. Not to mention, if you had kept moving with your old one inside you, it would've jammed everything permanently." 

_"What?"_

"One of your old knee joint cogs crumbled into pieces," That probably was why walking had been such a struggle, "As for why I've decided to stay and help you? It's easy to say that it's personal, is it not? It's harder to say that if, let's say- a friend of yours you remember from a long time ago dissapeared, then reappeared. When your friend reappears, your friend is suddenly reckless and self destructive. Would you not worry as well? Or would you leave you friend to _rot_ in a _loop?"_

Gilgamech did not have an answer, and so gave none. It would be better to push it away in order for him to complete what he needed to do. He could come back to questions like that later. The Merchant let out what almost sounded like a huff of disappointment.

"You can move now, by the way. Just be careful about it or it'll be harder for both of us." 

Gilgamech finally moved, and immediately heard the grinding again. It was more quiet, yes, and less painful, but it was still there. He was tired of laying down though, and at the very least got himself in a sitting position of some kind. The grinding noise created something that felt almost gross; it didnt help that he still felt violently sick and like he was somewhere unknown, yet completely known and familiar. Luckily, half of those feelings lasted only a second, but the after effects of their existence stayed with him for longer than he appreciated. 

"Can you hear the grinding?" He asked, and noticed his voice came out odd to him. 

"Yes. It's quiet now, at the least." The Merchant stopped for a second, and then her body language seemed to tense in realization, "Oh. Well, _hero_ , that's going to be rather permanent." 

_"What."_

"Unless you'd be willing to risk an entire body overhaul, that isn't going to go away. I personally wouldn't reccomend it." 

"A body overhaul?" 

"Oh my, you've been out of the loop for quite some time, haven't you?" 

"I've been busy." 

"Hmph," She made a clicking noise, "It's a new kind of 'medicine'. You get an entirely new body. The only thing that's old is your brain. They call the process _assimilation_ , or something like that. I hope you've noticed how I never said your steam-heart is also old. I don't trust it one bit, it seems much too shady." 

Gilgamech almost mentally paused. The grinding in his body was easy to be explained when it came to how it happened. The Behemoth was unforgiving, he had been a witness instead of victim to it once before. The cause, technically, did not matter; or refused to matter. But he knew well it would cause problems in the future. Gears and cogs grinding was not a pleasant experience, and could restrict movement. Movement was what he needed to be able to fight the Behemoth, and anyone who gets in his way. The ability to do so...

He looked at his hand, listening closely to the grinding sounds that traveled throughout as he moved it, carefully making his hand close then open again. 

No. He would not throw away his past self- his current self. 

"Agreed." He answered. 

The Merchant did not look convinced, for whatever reason, "Good. Some people think such risky stunts are worth it. Reminds me of someone I know rather personally." 

Desperate to be rid of the weight in the air, he asked, "Who?" 

The Merchant looked at him stiffly, as if it was like if she had eyes she would be blinking slowly. She then made a hand waving motion and walked out of the curtained corner, "I'm going to retrieve something from my wagon. I don't recommend using any magic, by the way. Unless you want your boiler to explode, of course." 

"Explode...?" He mumbled, then sighed deeply. That certainly... Sounded like a problem. Then again, so was everything today, so he really shouldn't be surprised. Especially because now, he didn't even know what to do. The pain was certainly out of the way, was it not? So now he could probably do what he needed. Yes, he was just only recovering, but he was, once again, the True Ancient Hero. Someone who doesn't need to take as much time to recover, and someone who definitely doesn't let the something like grinding gears get in his way. 

If the Behemoth has truly been defeated once again, it could be brought back to life again. He could defeat it as he was actually meant to; before anyone interfered. The search for it would be rather troubling, but perhaps would keep him out of the way for long enough without interference. He would have less resources this time, but he knew perfectly fine how to work with such. 

And yet, there was something that made everything feel wrong. There was memories of the first time they had fought the Behemoth. There was memories of just yesterday(?), there was so much and so little at once, and the events that had transpired. There was how large the Behemoth had been, how he had to wonder if it was bigger than last time, or if his memory had failed him, how people had remembered him and yet once he found out, it had felt like nothing. It had been grasping at air. 

The memory of a morbidly crushed steampipe made his way into his vision briskly, and he could've sworn his boiler was going to explode without the magic even being needed. 

It wasn't this bad before. When just days ago, he had put his plan into full action, or all the way back when he had first thought of it, offered to Orik his plan, it wasn't like this. It shouldn't be. Yes, what had happened with the Behemoth had been wrong, he had been meant to defeat it and he didn't, but it couldn't have had that kind of affect on him, could it? He just had to try again. He had time. He wouldn't let himself be forgotten like this. 

But what lead did he have now? There was none at this point. Even then, there was everything that had happened. There was the grinding in his gears. There was the Behemoth, there was Orik, there was so much, and it didn't _work_. 

The oil and water in his system felt like it might crawl directly out of his body. 

"I'm surprised that you didn't get up and fall on your face, only to say it wasn't your fault. You used to do that a lot." The Merchant almost seemed to come from nowhere just to interrupt his thoughts, but he knew better, at least. 

"I was busy thinking." Was the only thing he felt comfortable actually explaining. He noticed the Merchant was holding something similar to a bandage in her hand, and eyed it with slight suspicion. 

" _Finally_ ," She walked to him again, grabbing his arm and beginning to wrap the odd bandage around it before he could respond to anything, "You have a nasty crack in your armor here. This bandage has some magic that should help with that. Just keep it on, and you'll be fine. And I mean it. _Don't. Take. It. Off."_

He definitely didn't need fancy tools like this, but it was appreciated, "Understood." And for some reason, after he spoke, the Merchant seemed... Oddly uncomfortable. It was unsettling, but didn't last for long. 

Specifically, because she then asked, "So, what do you plan to do now?" 


End file.
